


falling for you

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year in the life of Courfeyrac and Jehan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	falling for you

_January_

On the morning after New Year’s Eve, Jehan woke up, slightly disoriented, somehow perched on top of Courfeyrac. He faintly noticed that they must still be at the Musain and that they’d probably fallen asleep on a sofa, one of his legs was slung over Courfeyrac’s, Courf’s hand was tangled in his hair, and he could feel the rise and fall of his chest underneath him.

It was strange to wake up so close to him, he remembered kissing him at midnight, that’s what they’d always been, a few hugs here, a few kisses there. Nothing special, nothing serious.

He’d always had an eye on Courfeyrac, but knew that he was definitely not the kind of person someone like him would want to be with. When he shifted his position a bit, Courf slid his other arm around him, pinning him in place.

Later, Courfeyrac walked him home, after they’d said goodbye to their (mainly) cheerful friends (and a grumpy Enjolras), and something went unspoken between them, something had changed, but neither of them quite knew how to put it in words. Even Jehan, usually having a way with words, was at a loss.

So they walked in silence, Jehan only weakly protesting that he could go home on his own, but stopping when Courfeyrac insisted.

Somewhere along the way, Courf took his hand and didn’t let go until they reached Jehan’s apartment.

 

_February_

Enjolras dragged them to the first protest of the year. There sure were many more to come and usually they didn’t mind going, but none of them were very enthusiastic about protesting in the ice-rain that was currently drizzling down on them and soaking them to the bones.

“I’m going to freeze to death, tell me why we’re doing this again,” Courf grumbled into his scarf (hand-knitted by Jehan).

Jehan didn’t say anything, just hugged him tight to his chest. It didn’t really do anything to warm him up, but he sure wouldn’t complain.

The next day Courfeyrac woke up with the worst headache of his life and a running nose.

Jehan came over to check on him and to make him a cup of tea.

He didn’t leave afterwards.

 

_March_

It wasn’t like they’d talked about their relationship in the past, so they both kept circling each other, waiting for the best time to _say something_. Not that either of them would know what to say when the time came.

They were at one of their meetings at the Musain – actually it was already coming to an end – and everyone was already busy drinking and talking about what Enjolras liked to call ‘trivial matters’. Jehan was somewhat frustrated because matters between him and Courfeyrac were rather unclear, and was therefore more than ready to leave and bury his head under a pillow to wallow in self-pity.

When he stood up to go, however, Courf also jumped up from his chair, tugging at Jehan’s sleeve, beckoning him to come with him.

More intrigued than annoyed, Jehan followed him outside and let Courf drag him around the corner into an empty alley, where he promptly pushed him against the wall and crushed their lips together, maybe more fiercely than he had intended. Jehan didn’t care, though, and pulled Courfeyrac closer, kissing him back breathlessly.

Maybe talking was overrated.

 

_April_

Courf took Jehan to the cinema once, and they shared popcorn and held hands and they kissed, completely oblivious to what happened on the screen. It’s not like anyone had actually said the word _date_ beforehand, but it quite possibly was exactly that.

When they went out for coffee on a Sunday afternoon, only about a week later, they might have been on a date, too. Not that anybody said so.

After dinner, another week or so later, after Courf had brushed his feet against his for an indecent amount of time, distracting him from the food right in front of him, Jehan finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for so, so long. “We’re dating, aren’t we?”

Courfeyrac hesitated before he answered, as if he wasn’t sure what the right answer to that might be. “I guess we are, if you want to, but if you don’t want to that’s fine, too, I mean, I would be okay with it, but... yeah.” He intently stared at his plate, afraid to look at Jehan.

Jehan nodded. “Right, so we are.”

At that, Courf looked up, smiling. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

 

_May_

When the weather got warm enough, Jehan dragged Courf to the park every once in a while. They’d sit on a blanket and they’d bring food and Jehan would read from his favourite poetry books, Courfeyrac leaning against him, a comfortable weight against his chest.

Jehan was sure that Courf didn’t care much about poetry, but he’d once told him that he liked his voice, so he kept reading.

He only stopped every now and then to run his fingers through Courf’s hair or kiss him, drawing appreciative hums from him. They were happy, splayed out on their blanket with the spring sun tickling their faces.

And sometimes, Jehan picked flowers from the grass, Courf’s eyes on him, only half open, but when Jehan turned around he would see the fond expression on his boyfriend’s face, watching while he carefully stuck the flowers into his braided hair.

Later, when Courfeyrac took him home, he plucked the flowers out of his hair one by one, with Jehan shaking under his hands.

 

_June_

Courfeyrac left little traces in Jehan’s life.

Textbooks that weren’t his piled up on his desk, cereal he didn’t like but Courf loved appeared in his kitchen cupboard, every now and then he found a stray sock or a t-shirt under his bed, once it was a pair of battered shoes that made him wonder if Courf had one time taken off without his shoes on.

And Jehan left poems stuck to Courf’s fridge and bought him a plant to make his apartment look less dull, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t survive for too long in his care.

It was a subtle shift,  and it happened over time, but when he thought about it, it made Jehan realise how empty his life would be without him, and how glad he was that he was there.

He often scribbled poems in his notebook when Courfeyrac took a nap on his sofa or when he made dinner in the kitchen, unexceptional things, really. But not unexceptional to him, Courf was anything but ordinary.

Jehan never showed them to him, and probably never would.

But he liked to read them when Courf wasn’t there.

 

_July_

It was nearly midnight, but night time did nothing to cool down the hot summer air. They were in Jehan’s bed, naked and sweaty, all sheets pushed away. Courf had already drifted off to sleep, breathing evenly, his dark hair tickling Jehan’s chin every time he moved.

Courfeyrac had wrapped himself around Jehan, despite the temperatures outside, and in winter it might have been cute and more than welcome, but now it was just keeping Jehan from sleeping. Still, he didn’t have the heart to push him away.

He wouldn’t have taken Courfeyrac for the clingy kind; anyway, he only was when he was asleep. Jehan had noticed it with merriment, that every time one of them stayed overnight at the other’s place, Courf would curl around him.

He trailed his fingers over Courfeyrac’s skin, careful not to wake him. “I love you.” It was merely a whisper.

Courfeyrac hugged him a little tighter.

 

_August_

“Oh my god, they’re so cute, do you think we can take one them home?” Courfeyrac clawed at his arm, pointing at the tiger cubs, excited like a little boy.

Jehan had thought going to the zoo would be a nice idea, they both hadn’t been in years and it was a nice summer day, not too hot, which also showed in the number of visitors strolling around. He would have never guessed, though, that Courfeyrac would get this thrilled.

“You don’t want one of those as a pet, believe me, before long it’s going to eat you for breakfast.”

“But look at them, I’ve never seen anything this adorable.” He looked over at Jehan. “Well, maybe you when you wake up in the morning.”

“Maybe you should get a kitten.” Not as potentially deadly. Jehan had often played with the thought of getting a cat himself, but had never brought himself to actually do it.

“Yeah, we should.”

 _We should_. Jehan smiled, and dragged Courfeyrac away to go see the flamingos.

 

_September_

In retrospect, Jehan couldn’t tell why exactly they’d started arguing, it had something to do with Courfeyrac starting a fight in a pub while he’d been drunk, and it had ended with Courf taking off and banging the door shut, leaving Jehan behind with tears in his eyes and his hands trembling.

They didn’t talk for days on end, both too proud to pick up the phone, although often tempted to do so, because the silence nearly became too unbearable.

Even their friends were worried, and Combeferre called to ask what had happened, because Courfeyrac had turned up on his doorstep, a sobbing mess.

As the silence stretched on, Jehan began to regret the things he’d said and started thinking that he’d overreacted, and wondered if it was too late to say sorry and to take everything back to make things right again.

He was driving himself mad. It didn’t take much longer until he was out the door and on his way. When he knocked on Courf’s door he felt like he was going to throw up, he was genuinely scared. As it turned out, all his nervousness was completely unfounded, and Courfeyrac wordlessly pulled him into a hug the second he opened the door.

Not too late to apologise then.

 

_October_

“Stop laughing,” Jehan whispered between sobs.

And Courfeyrac tried, he really did, but he burst into giggles only a minute later. “I’m sorry, but it really isn’t that sad.”

They were curled up on Jehan’s sofa, watching a film. He had told Courf at some point that sad films made him cry, and even back then amusement had flickered in Courf’s eyes. Until today he’d never actually been around for it, and now Jehan just felt ridiculous. “Yes it is, it’s not my fault that your heart is made of stone.”

Jehan was still sulking when Courf pulled him a bit closer and started stroking his hair. “Stop pouting,” he murmured and kissed his tears away. “Love you.”

He huffed, grabbed a pillow and hit Courfeyrac in the face with it. Courf then pushed him off the sofa and reached for another pillow himself. They started chasing each other around the sofa, too engrossed in their pillow fight to still care about the film.

Eventually, they ended up next to each other on the floor, now both of them laughing.

 

_November_

It was nearly noon when they woke up on an especially gloomy Sunday, it looked like the sun was already going down again. Outside, the rain was coming down heavily, relentlessly tapping on the window. Jehan groaned. “We could just stay in bed all day.”

“Tempting, but I have a ton of essays to write.” Courf tried to sit up, but Jehan pinned him down on the bed with all the strength he could muster. If Courfeyrac had really wanted to get up, it would have been easy for him to throw Jehan off him.

He chose not to. “Okay, you’ve convinced me,” he relaxed back onto the mattress, “I suppose they will still be there tomorrow.”

“I’m almost certain they will be.” Jehan mumbled, and started kissing his way down Courfeyrac’s torso, also leaving bite marks here and there.

“This is so much better than writing an essay could ever be,” he said reverently, as Jehan’s travelled lower, tongue flicking over delicate skin.

“Stop talking,” Jehan said, turning his attention back to Courf’s mouth to shut him up.

 

_December_

They spent Christmas together at Jehan’s place, without a fancy dinner and without presents. Courf came over early, enthusiastically pulling a Santa hat on Jehan’s head before he even walked through the door.

Courfeyrac also brought frozen pizza, Jehan had bought mousse au chocolat for dessert, and they were perfectly happy with all of it.

Afterwards they spread a blanket on the floor and lay under the Christmas tree, looking up at the lights, Jehan rubbing little circles on Courf’s wrist. He let out a content sigh as Jehan’s hand began to wander, pulled him closer, and placed little kisses wherever he could reach.

“You should move in with me,” Jehan whispered against his neck, barely audible, maybe even a bit timid.

Courf startled, but only for a second, and then smiled. “Yeah, I should do that.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, relieved, and continued dragging lazy kisses down Courfeyrac’s neck.

A couple of days later, Courfeyrac had already hauled most of his belongings over to Jehan’s apartment, and they spent the last days of the year the way they’d begun it.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> (I love them so much it's not even funny)  
> (Isa asked me to write about them because of one of my other fics so here you go)


End file.
